The Fairy Tale That Isn't.....

My life does not always line up with scripture.

Some of this is my fault. It is choices I've made, sin in my life, or lack of God. But some of this is things that are outside of my control. The equations I was taught, didn't equal the answer I wanted.

Faith isn't supposed to be part of the equation....

Faith + Hard work + Wise choices = financial freedom

Faith + Healthy living + Not seeking "The arm of the flesh" (ie. not going to doctors) = health/healing

Faith + Abstinence + 'Emotional Purity' = guarantee of a godly spouse

Faith + Humility + Unconditional Love = healthy relationships

.... It's supposed to be the answer.

Not the answer in some pat, recycled format. Not as a default answer to situations that have no answer; that require some grappling. Not as a way of not dealing with things. Instead, as the end product of what might turn out to be a long, heart-breaking, and life-changing story.

Like...     Life +A bunch of things we don't understand + Hanging on to God = Faith

Because guess what? I've seen all of the above equations (plus many, many more) fail. And if all of the promises of scripture came to pass as I read that they should, life would be a fairy tale. And where does this fallen world come into play? And will all of those things that are 'working together for my good' automatically be pain-free? And is pain always bad?

Who's fault is it?

So God doesn't fail. Which leaves..... people. But can we really be so assuming as to blame people for things that God sovereignly allows? Yes, God has chosen to allow man to play a role in the universe and to influence His actions. But for disillusioned people to take responsibility or assign blame when prayer is not answered in an expected way, might possibly be a bit conceited. Because faith = trust regardless of the outcome.

What if we're not in charge?

Most Christians will quickly allow that humans are not in charge. Yet our actions don't back up that allowance. When children don't turn out well, we often blame parents. When marriages fail, we tend to blame the couple. When people die, we find ourselves asking if we really prayed in faith for their healing.

Let go, and let God....

That might not just mean not trying so hard on our own. That might mean being willing to accept the answers that we don't understand. Even answers that don't line up with our understanding of scripture. That might mean wrestling over truth and questioning beliefs until all we have to hang on to, is a simple fact.

God Is.

Maybe there isn't actually an If/Then equation that sums up life. Perhaps Faith in God = Faith in God. Could it be that the end of faith is actually faith, rather than 'things hoped for'?  What if the plan is much bigger than ending up with what we think we need, or what we think we're entitled to based on Scripture?

Maybe Faith is having the courage to let God be in Control.

Several Things....

(which have little or no impact on your life)

I am moving in 3 weeks. To another house. Here, in the Philippines.

I really miss lettuce salad, Hungarian Goulash, good cheese, and chatting late at night with my siblings.

There is a new Melissa in the world.... named after me! I took care of her momma before and after her birth. (But I missed the actual event by minutes)

Sometimes, I really want to feel cold.

I have a 'tall' nose. Here, where noses tend to be flatter and wider, my nose is a coveted feature.

I speak 'cute' Visayan.

During the month of July, I will be in the states, and I want to see all of you. Message me.

I firmly believe that God allowed mankind to invent Facebook as a support system for overseas workers.

20 perfect, slippery babies have been welcomed into this world by my hands.

Intestines can be cooked in such a way as to be an exceptionally delicious food.

I am a lover of beauty and randomness. I wish to create both.

The other day, there was a 4 foot snake in our yard. My housemate and I chased him around with a machete.

Laughing is my favorite thing. Plus also, smiling. And languages, and people.

Yellow.

What I Don't Want.....

I don't want to feel alone.
Torn between worlds that cannot understand each other.
Different here, different back..... Home?
And what is that, exactly?
And where?
 
I don't want to live in transition.
Here, but only for a while.
Temporary... I cannot hold on too tightly.
Yet wonderful... I want to embrace it all.
What is normal?

I don't want to seek comfort.
The false security of the familiar.
A slow death as the world passes me by.
Afraid to let go, afraid to change.
Will this hurt?

I don't want to miss opportunity.
Paralyzed by unknowns.
Avoiding commitments laced with uncertainty.
Hesitant to love fully.
What if....?

I don't want to hurt.
But understanding joy is knowing sorrow.
To be stilled in wonder requires humility.
And tangible hope is sometimes defered.
Can I choose?

I don't want to waste my life.
Fear speaking louder than faith.
To let feelings trump purpose.
Too reserved to feel deeply.
How do I surrender?

I don't want to live for me.
My focus diverted from God and His kingdom.
Futile pursuit of fulfillment.
Prioritizing my happiness.
What is that worth?

I don't want to stay the same.
Maybe that is the scarriest of all.
Change is not relaxing.
Real life is a risk.
What is holding me back?

 

When Joy and Sorrow Mix...

I wasn't sure how things would work out. 

She was just 18, and he was 19. Her labor was long and difficult. She was my Healing Birth. But although her birth was a joy and salve for my soul, for her the story looked quite different. I could not figure out the dynamic between her and her 'husband'. He was not attentive, nor very helpful through the 29 hours she labored. She was closed up when he was around.... numb.




At least she had a good brother. 

 Right after birth when she decided to get up and use the bathroom without asking, she stood up only to find an alarming amount of blood pooling around her feet. Her 'husband' and brother were in the cubicle, yelling for me. We sat her down quickly, and grabbed a bed pan. Then her brother knelt down and carefully wiped all the blood off her legs and the floor.


I yelled at her 'husband'.

He was going to let her walk to the bathroom alone, with her IV, only two hours after giving birth. He was going to stand there, not offering help, and watch her go. So I yelled at him.

You will be the one! What do you THINK??!! She has already given birth. She has already worked for 29 hours to bring your baby into the world. YOU CANNOT LET HER GO ALONE! Here! Take this IV bottle. Take her arm like this. DON'T LEAVE HER FOR ANY Reason!

I was still a bit angry.

I whirled around to the brother.
"You will watch the baby while she is gone." I ordered
 "Oh yes ma'am" he replied, all the while texting updates to family and friends. But I was in a passion.
 "NO! The baby will be cold just lying there on the bed. You will hold the baby."
"Oh ma'am, I cannot! I'm afraid!" He said.
I did not respond. I lifted the baby and carried her to her uncle.
"Hold your arms like this." I showed him the way the baby would just rest against his body. I helped him to relax. "See? You're like a professional now." I turned to clean up the bed. Then he started shouting.... "Lihok sya! Lihok sya!" (she's moving, she's moving!) I turned to see a terrified uncle trying to balance the little bundle who had just turned her head. I almost laughed, but, in deference to the personal dignity of the uncle, I swallowed my humor and assured him it is normal for babies to move when they're alive.

He adjusted well.

A few minutes later, I looked over into the cubicle and noticed that the uncle had become much more relaxed in his posture while holding his tiny niece. Just a few minutes after that my heart was overwhelmed with pride when I peeked over and caught the uncle, now comfortable enough to pose for a selfie like this. -->

The joy mixed with tears.

Three weeks after the birth, I was doing a routine checkup with my cute little patient. I asked her how her 'husband' was doing, and if he was helpful with the baby.
"No ma'am" she replied. "I think.... deep breath... I think maybe he has another girl."

I look at her, suddenly understanding it all.

 Is that sad for you?
"A little, ma'am" she replies. In a culture where everyone is supposed to smile all the time, to joke about pain, and to laugh over embarrassment, "a little" means HEARTBROKEN.

 
And then she blew me away. 

"Ma'am, at least I have my baby, though." Wow. A single, heartbroken, 18-year-old mom, living with her parents, betrayed by the father of her baby, no way of making a living, and she is thankful for her little girl. She told me she doesn't mind the sleepless nights, or the lack of support. She LOVES her baby.


 A few days later I received a text. 

"Ma'am Melissa? I know now, my 'husband' has another girl. Thank you ma'am. I just wanted you to know."  I cried with her. I cried for all the joy, and for all the sorrow. Mixed tears. For the baby who will not know her daddy. For the young woman who is pioneering motherhood alone. For the new life granted. For anger towards the young man who is shirking fatherhood. For wonder over the way this girl has chosen to value her baby.... not to resent her.